When Love and Hate Collide
Foulliners, there is something I need to get off my chest that I’m not very proud of. I am embarrassed to admit I am a huge New York Yankees fan. After writing this blog for the past year, I felt that now was the time to finally come clean. I love the Yankees.
I love their 26 World Series rings. They’re so retro.
I love the supreme intelligence of Hank Steinbrenner.
I love the rules that they have in place for Joba. Next year he may get to pitch 12 innings.
I love pinstripes. They even make Don Zimmer look slim.
I love their professional grooming policy. Because everyone knows beards don’t win ballgames.
I love that they have a $200 million payroll. Because $190 million only buys 4th place.
I love that they made the playoffs for 13 consecutive years. I love even more that it won’t be 14.
I love the originality of the Yankee Universe.
I love Mantle, Gehrig, Ruth, Berra, Boone, Jeter and Bucky Effing Dent.
I love when Mariano Rivera comes on the field to “Enter Sandman.” Metallica is huge in Venezuela.
I love to watch Alex Rodriguez mash home runs, collect MVP awards, and cheat on his wife with skanky strippers and geriatric pop stars.
I love the Bronx. I can smell it from here.
I love Giambi’s mustache. It distracts from his fat ass and poor fielding percentage.
I love the Yankee fans’ passion, loyalty, and 3rd grade educations.
I love “God Bless America” during the 7th inning stretch at Yankee Stadium. It reminds me of the 4th of July, when they were still in contention.
I love Billy Crystal and Rudy Giuliani. They throw better than Johnny Damon.
I love that the Yankees pounded the Rays last night during game one of their series.
I love that the Yankees have the chance to play playoff spoiler this season.
I love the Yankees. At least until Thursday.